Page 44 of Lula Dean's Little Library of Banned Book
“So looks like there’s gonna be a mayor’s race soon,” Mitch said. “And my good friend Lula Dean is fixing to win it. But we’re not here today to ask for your vote. We’ve gathered in this square to show our support for someone who’s under attack and can no longer defend himself. General Augustus Wainwright.”
Mitch paused and stepped to one side to gaze up at the statue with a perfect rendition of reverence and respect. Lula couldn’t have done it any better. Mitch may have been an idiot, but he was a damn fine actor.
“This man right here fought against Northern invaders to preserve our unique way of life. Sherman marched out of his way to burn Augustus Wainwright’s home to the ground. As a result, the town of Troy was saved from destruction. After the war, Wainwrightpersonallyfinanced the building of our world-famous courthouse. And how do some folks want to thank him in the twenty-first century? By tearing down the statue that has stood on this spot for one hundred and fifty years.”
Mitch shook his head sadly. “Fortunately, a hero has stepped forward to defend the general, just as he defended this town all those years ago. And let me tell you, Augustus Wainwright could not ask for a better champion. AsI’m sure y’all know, Lula Dean is one tough cookie. She’s already taken on the pornographers, perverts, and propagandists, and now she’s going after all the folks who want to send our beloved general to the county dump!”
The applause echoed through the square.
“Y’all give it up for Lula Dean!”
The photographers surged forward as Lula took the mic. This was her moment.
“Can you believe it? An introduction like that from the great Mitch Sweeney? I wish I could go back to 1990 and tell nine-year-old Lula this day is coming!”
She fluttered her eyelids at Mitch and the crowd loved it.
“While we’re back in time, I want y’all to remember what it was like. Just think about the way things used to be right here in this square. Wasn’t that long ago, but it feels like forever. I remember Fourth of July parades, Confederate Memorial Day picnics, and family reunions with Augustus looking on. Remember how wonderful that was? Remember how safe you felt? Our mamas and daddies could let us pick out books at the library without worrying we’d accidentally come home with some piece of filth that would rot our minds. And we could play outside until sundown without anyone ever worrying we’d end up kidnapped and trafficked. Y’all remember that?”
They were eating it up! Lula nodded along with them.
“Mmm-hmm, I knew you did. People didn’t fight and argue as much back then. There was no CRT or BLM to get folks riled up. Everybody used the same two pronouns. Divorce was something that was frowned upon. If married folks had a problem, they went to the Lord with it, not to the courthouse. You taught your children what you saw fit—and you did it in keeping with your family values. You weren’t told to hand over their education to folks with agendas. We revered our ancestors and were grateful for the sacrifices they made. Everybody got treated fairly, no matter who they were or what they looked like. Men were allowed to be strong and women feminine and nobody took pride in being a victim. Y’all remember those days? Feels like a million years ago, doesn’t it?”
She waited forever for the crowd to stop clapping. She’d hit the right nerve.
“Then what do you say we bring those days back. Let’s stop letting the forces of evil tear our communities apart! Let’s stop letting them label us all racists or bigots just because we won’t do what we’re told! And for heaven’s sake, let’s stop them from tearing down our monuments and our statues!”
That’s when she spotted the Wright brothers making their way through the crowd toward the front of the stage. They were dressed nice in chinos and button-downs, and they both looked so wonderfully serious. Lula’s heart swelled to see them. James Wright hadn’t let her down after all.
“Looks like we have a few latecomers rolling in. Y’all make way for the Wright boys. Their daddy was one of the earliest members of our Concerned Parents Committee. Now he’s sent his sons as his representatives. You two come on up.”
Lula wasn’t thrilled to see them bring that Bella Cummings onstage with them. But she supposed it wouldn’t hurt for the photographers to get pictures of Troy’s pretty prom queen supporting the cause.
Without saying a word to her or anyone else, the Wright boys positioned themselves at either end of the stage front, unfurling a banner between them. After a loud gasp, the crowd fell utterly silent. Suddenly, every hand held a smartphone aloft.
“How do you know?” a reporter shouted.
“Do you have proof?” another called out.
“Wait just a second,” Lula demanded. “What’s the sign say?” She walked around to a spot where she could see what was written.
We are descendants of the rapist Augustus Wainwright,the banner read.We want him removed from Jackson Square.
“How dare you!” Lula exclaimed. “You can’t make things up like that!”
In his left hand, the older boy raised a rolled-up document. “I have a printout of our family tree. The man who commissioned this statue of himself had a child with one of the women he enslaved, who was in no position to give her consent. The woman he raped was our ancestor. I have the DNAresults to prove it. And so, it disgusts me to say, the slaveholding tyrant Lula Dean and her supporters have come here to celebrate is our great-great-great-great-great-grandfather.”
Suddenly everyone in the crowd was talking at once. The reporters were all pushing their way toward the two boys. Every camera had turned in their direction.
Why did she do what she did at that moment? It was a question that Lula would have to ponder. What would have happened if she hadn’t said anything? Would things have turned out for the better or worse? First, Lula looked over at Mitch, who seemed utterly confused. Then her head turned just a smidge more, and she witnessed Logan Walsh drop to one knee and hitch up a pant leg. She saw the metallic glint of a gun in an ankle holster.
“Mitch!” Lula screamed. “Stop him!”
Jolted out of a trance, Mitch responded. But he hadn’t seen Logan. With the growl of a furious bear, he charged forward toward the boys with the banner instead. Halfway across the stage, his foot caught the mic cord, and in the mayhem that followed, Lula lost sight of Logan.
Mitch lurched forward, slamming right into Bella Cummings. Lula watched the girl sail into the air and off the platform. The crowd screamed and parted. Then Bella vanished from sight as she plunged to the earth and landed with a dull thump on the cobblestones. Lula ran to the edge of the stage. Bella was lying on her back five feet into the audience. The older Wright boy leaped into the crowd and knelt by the girl’s side.
“You motherfucker!” someone shouted.
